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Study in contrasts

They're both on lakes, they've both just been picked as &quot;North American cities of the future&quot; and, while both Chicago and Toronto are considered liveable and relatively green, one soars while the other shuffles.

CHICAGO–They're both on lakes, they've both just been picked as "North American cities of the future" and, while both Chicago and Toronto are considered liveable and relatively green, one soars while the other shuffles.

Two cities. Two mayors. Two very different approaches.

One does, the other talks.

Consider:

One minute past midnight, March 31, 2003.

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Unannounced, under orders from Mayor Richard M. Daley, city workers bulldoze deep, X-shaped ruts into the runway at Meigs Field, a small airport on Chicago's waterfront.

To ensure no one observes the destruction, Daley has blinding lights aimed toward potential onlookers.

Chicago's business community – the main beneficiary of the downtown airport – is angry. So are those who defend democracy and due process. So is the U.S. government, which forces the city to pay more than $1 million in penalties.

Daley, fresh from another re-election, doesn't care. The airport is an affront to his vision of a waterfront open to everyone. He has not only closed it, but also avoided a long legal battle.

Today, the 37-hectare site – a man-made strip parallel to the city's spectacular, skyscraper-lined shore – is undeveloped parkland.

Compare and contrast.

As Daley's bulldozers move on Meigs Field, David Miller is beginning his first campaign for mayor of Toronto. His major promise is to kill plans for a bridge to the island airport. The expectation is that if he succeeds the airport will disappear.

He wins, and today, there's no bridge. But the outcome isn't what Miller intended.

The city gets enmeshed in a court battle that costs Canadian taxpayers a $35 million settlement with the Toronto Port Authority and Porter Air. The company now operates a scheduled service with a new ferry, terminal, and aircraft.

Miller is left to complain and issue threats – to no effect.

The two mayors faced different circumstances. The point is that it's impossible to imagine Miller doing what Daley did. That, in turn, illustrates the wide gap in how they operate and how they might fare now that each has declared his city will be "the greenest."

A cautious Miller talks and consults. Even small matters like banning leaf blowers wither in endless debate. Daley – who has far more clout, and revels in it – acts. Chicago's success is noted by a new Financial Times of London survey, which ranks it a runaway first among the "North American Cities of the Future." Toronto is a distant second.

Chicago got top spot for qualities that indicate drive and energy – its high levels of public and private investment and strong economic indicators – as well as quality of life.

Daley pursues his vision with gusto, even joy. It's far from perfect. But in the race to be "greenest," he is off and sprinting.

Daley is considered the most powerful mayor in the United States. Observers say he has even surpassed his father, Richard J., who ran Chicago as a personal fiefdom from 1955 until a heart attack felled him 21 years later. If Daley wants something done, it gets done. Whatever he opposes, dies.

"The people love him," says Kathleen Oskandy, who works for an environmentally active politician in Cook County – the region that includes Chicago. "He'll be in office as long as he cares to be."

Toronto's mayor casts just one ballot among 45 on council. But in Chicago, the mayor votes only to break a tie, yet wields a heavy hammer – a veto over any measure.

Chicago has more opportunities to raise revenue, including a 2.25 per cent sales tax, although the new City of Toronto Act has increased this city's power to tax as well as the mayor's clout.

History plays a part: in Canada, cities are viewed as third-class governments. Toronto residents are used to weak mayors.

Miller doesn't have enough political clout to throw his weight around. But he lacks political clout because he won't throw his weight around, suggests Chris Gore, an assistant professor in political science and public administration at Ryerson University.

"In the end, it's a matter of how much Miller wants to put out of himself ... If he wants to create the greenest city, he's going to have to ... risk himself politically."

Although Toronto has good environmental policies, "I don't think city employees or citizens are convinced the guy is really taking action," Gore says. Daley, 65 last Tuesday, is not nice. Part of his magnetism is the understanding that cold steel lies under his "guy from the neighbourhood" charm.

He is diminutive, a little dishevelled. Like Peter Falk's Columbo character on the old TV show, he makes himself appear less than he is. Despite decades of experience, he stumbles through public appearances, then jokes about it.

In February, Daley won his sixth term in another landslide. Typically, even those who opposed his dismantling of the airport now admire the bold move.

"People know he's a bully and a strongman; he can be a bit of a tyrant," says Mick Dumke, at Chicago's Columbia College. "They like it."

There are allegations of corruption against some aides. Last year, Daley's former patronage chief was convicted of rigging hiring practices. Patrick Fitzgerald, the U.S. Attorney prosecuting Conrad Black, is also trying to dig up mud on Daley.

It doesn't seem to matter, Dumke says. "There's a perverse pride Chicagoans have of being a gritty industrial city run by gangsters ... He's obviously brilliant; he does far more right than wrong."

Miller, who will be 49 on Boxing Day, seems to want consensus first. In contrast, when faced with disagreement, Daley goes with his gut. "I enjoy getting things done," Daley once said. "My philosophy is the edge, the edge of something. There's where we have to go in local government, in not only the philosophy but the creativity in people around you. They have to go to the edge."

In 1995, he took over Chicago's ailing public schools from the state government. Four years later, he did the same with public housing. In both cases, he imposed radical change.

Now, he's put the environment atop his to-do list.

It's a tall order: Chicago remains a very brown city. Its residents and businesses consume as many resources, and emit as much pollution, as people anywhere in North America. As in southern Ontario, urban sprawl gobbles land far beyond the city's borders.

Within Chicago's borders, polluting factories and old, energy-leaking housing – in one of the most segregated U.S. cities, home to mainly black and Hispanic people – sprawl for kilometres south and west beyond the downtown core.

With all this, Daley surprised many people when he said Chicago should be the greenest city, says Howard Learner, head of the Environmental Law and Policy Center, a research and advocacy group.

Learner works closely with the mayor's staff. It is, after all, essential to have Daley on your side. But he also appreciates what's happened to the city's climate of opinion: "When the mayor of Chicago says one of his defining issues is to green the city, that creates so much awareness and a more fertile environment for lots of policies to flourish."

Daley wouldn't bother with anything like the "framework for consultation" Miller released in March – the timid first step toward a possible climate-change plan that's to be discussed at a public forum tomorrow.

Daley pushes his government to try new things, then, with incentives, encourages people and companies to follow the lead. He had a green roof installed on city hall, then said the city would let developers put up bigger buildings if they, too, include rooftop gardens. The city now boasts a world-best 3 million square feet built or under construction.

Daley can be tough in private but in public he candidly breezes past mistakes. After 10 years, he's trashing a recycling system – based on blue bags collected with the regular waste – that's been a dismal failure.

But he's upbeat as he heads back to square one – a blue bin system, similar to Toronto's. "Landfills are not the answer," he says. "All our garbage has to be recycled." Daley even seems willing to challenge residents on technologies such as air conditioning. "People love it, but there needs to be a full discussion" about it and its environmental impact," he says.

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